


There All Along

by nightfalltwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfalltwen/pseuds/nightfalltwen
Summary: Ron learns quickly that perhaps getting involved with a co-worker isn't so terrible after all.





	There All Along

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as part of the 2006 Smutty_Claus fic exchange on Livejournal. The gift was for **Lady_Caetlyn**. Fixed a few spelling errors and tweaked some punctuation but other than that I haven't made any massive changes since it was posted on livejournal in 2006.

*~*~*

_22 December, 2001_

Ron Weasley was seven and a half minutes late for work. Which shouldn't at all be a surprise for Ron had a history of being a little late for most things. He'd been thirty seconds late for his niece's christening. He'd been two minutes late for the qualifying exam that got him his job (luckily punctuality didn't count on his grade). He'd been late for the last three dentist appointments to fix tooth problems and for a crown that had to be put in. Too many chocolate frogs unfortunately. Hermione's parents had been rather nice about it all. But back to the matter at hand. Ron hurried down the corridor, shoving the remains of a powdered strawberry jam doughnut into his mouth. His current situation -- the whole being late for work thing -- was entirely not his fault. The queue at the doughnut shop had been out the door and once he'd gotten to the counter, instead of the apple fritter he'd hoped for, all that remained were these things with raisins or the strawberry jam doughnut. Raisins being completely out of the questions (nasty shriveled up things that they were), Ron had no choice but to choose the powdered confection overstuffed with strawberry jam that oozed out when he bit into it. And thus... he was...

"Seven and a half minutes late, Weasley."

"I know, Susan, I know." Ron wiped his lips with the back of his hand and tossed his heavy winter robe onto the desk. A quick glance at the clock told him that the trial would start in four and a half minutes. Just enough time for him to straighten his necktie and find his stenography quill.

At age twenty-one, Ron Weasley was simply too young to be deeply involved with the judicial procedures of the Wizengamot. On the whole, this was pretty disappointing. Regardless of the pay, which was actually pretty good, Ron had wanted to be the one to throw the book at a lot of the criminals. However, one had to start somewhere and that somewhere (as far as Wizard law went) just happened to be as a court stenographer. There were a total of four stenographers for the high profile cases, two for the defense and two for the prosecution. Turned out that Death Eater trials weren't as clear cut as everyone would have hoped. And they were taking years to complete (their "right to a speedy trial" had been revoked through the Death Eater Act of 1999). The Wizengamot would not have a former or current Death Eater released on a technicality.

"Suze, have you seen my quill?" Ron asked, lifting up a bunch of red folders. A few scrolls of parchment rolled off his desk and onto the floor.

"The one I'm holding in my hand and told you that I would look after because you can _never_ find it on time? This quill?" Susan dangled a rather weather beaten quill with a bent top between her fingers. Often she asked why he didn't just get a new one. But Ron staunchly insisted that he _liked_ this quill.

Her involvement with the Ministry was somewhat surprising. Susan Bones had lost nearly all of her family in some way or another and most expected her to withdraw from society in general, but instead she surprised everyone by getting into the thick of things. She'd told Ron once that it was because looking these monsters in the eye helped her to cope and put things to rest. She had fast become a good friend and Ron enjoyed being her co-worker, often thinking that it had been kind of a shame he'd not really made the attempt to really get to know those outside his own house.

Snatching up the quill and tucking it behind his ear, Ron gestured for Susan to lead the way. He'd been taught at a young age that ladies go first but to be quite honest, he just rather liked watching them walk away. Yes. He did know this was rather piggish of him, but there was just something about the way their hips swayed that kept his attention. And there was no harm in looking. It wasn't like he was walking along pinching their bums. That was something Jerrod from Magical Games and Sports would do. Ron was definitely above that.

After a good long look, Ron jogged to catch up to her. Susan was wearing stockings today. He could see part of the tops through the slit in the side of her skirt every time she took a step. This was new. Not those funny up-to-the-armpits stockings like what Ron had seen in the shop the one time he went shopping in Muggle London with Ginny ( _that_ was embarrassing) and helped carry her purchases home because Mum demanded that Ginny have an escort, but the kind of stockings that need suspenders to hold them up. Proper stockings. Ron could be appreciative of proper stockings. They were really sexy and in his opinion girls normally wore them when they were looking for action.

Of course, he didn't have all that much experience to base this opinion on, but in his imagination surely this had to be the reason why proper stockings looked so great.

*~*~*

He bloody hated court recesses. It was just a waste of time in his opinion and a sure sign that someone had fucked up and needed to scramble. More often than not it was the defense. Especially the defense for some of the more affluent defendants. They were always asking for five minutes here, fifteen minutes there, blah, blah, blah. If it had been Ron's choice he wouldn't allow it and make them go on, but law was all politics right now and though he didn't really care for the position he had, Ron was bound and determined to see it through so he could advance. This time it was the prosecution. Ron had it all down in his notes, though he wasn't sure why they were so worried. It seemed pretty open and shut to him.

But then he was a little biased. Funny thing though. He never let it show in his notes or his transcription. They were practically void of emotion.

"I overheard the prosecution. They're talking deal." 

Susan slid onto the bench beside him; her leg brushed his. This happened to be something Ron noticed because it was the leg on the side where the slit in her skirt was so when she sat the fabric gaped and he could once again see her suspender belt. Upon closer inspection (and honestly, how could any bloke with a heartbeat not look), he noticed that the belt was pink. Or at least the straps were. So he made the assumption that the rest of it was since he wasn't about to ask or anything. _That_ would be rude.

Ron met Susan's eyes and raised his eyebrows in an attempt to put an admonishing look on his face. "We're not supposed to know that."

"I know, but you can't help but overhear these things when people talk loudly behind doors that aren't fully closed."

"Susan Bones? _Eavesdropping_?" Ron pretended to look shocked, though he was a little bit proud of her. He certainly didn't have the stones to stick his ear against office doors.

She swatted his arm. "Oh don't even try to play the 'I'm not even remotely curious' card because it's not going to work. You're just as nosy as I am. More so I think."

Ron laughed. "Well if they do end up making a deal, means we start Christmas hols early. Guess we should be thankful for that." He shrugged and leaned back against the wall, letting his eyes slip shut. "Extra days with Mum, Dad and the rest of the family," he said flatly, "can't wait."

"You're telling me. My parents have this notion that I should be bringing a bloke home for the holidays any time now. They're going to be all put out when I show up with the cat again. I mean, you'd think maybe they would have just given up by now but oh no. It's 'when are you going to settle down, Susan?' and 'oh why don't you invite over that nice boy from down the street that you played with as a child?' Never mind that Xavier is about as straight as a pretzel and honestly I really think that you and I should just shag and see where that leads us."

"Sorry, _what_?" If Ron had been drinking anything it would have ended up on the far wall.

Susan turned, her knees bumped against his and she tilted her head just so. In that way that girls do which makes them look coy and seductive. Ron didn't understand what was going on, but then he rarely understood what was going on when it came to girls and the inner workings of their minds. Not that he didn't _like_ where this conversation was heading because, hey, what twenty-one year old male wouldn't? But surely there was a catch. There was always a catch. His last girlfriend (lasting all of two months) _always_ had a catch when it came to sex.

"You and me," Susan lowered her voice and flicked her hair toward a door. "That supply cupboard. Your trousers down around your ankles and my skirt up around my waist. I've seen you looking at my legs and my bum." Her hand slid over his thigh and squeezed before it started inching higher. And higher. "We can be fast. What do you say Weasley?" When she leaned close, her breasts nudged his upper arm and her hand found its way to his zipper. Her breath was moist and warm on his neck and against his ear 

"Well... I... erm..." Ron had no words. 

It wasn't like he'd ever _not_ thought about her in a sexual sense. Susan was pretty in that way that sort of catches you off guard. For ages she wore her hair in a long unassuming plait down her back until one day she came in and it was cut short and wild. The kind of style that looked great when hands were tangled in it. Ron teasingly referred to it as 'ultimate bed-head', but for a few weeks he himself had wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it. Ultimately he got over that. Someone, either Harry or Bill, had once told him that getting involved with a co-worker was usually one of the bad ideas to have. Not that Ron was absolutely sure about that.

In fact he wasn't sure about anything except that Susan's cool fingers felt absolutely brilliant against his skin and he was sure that everyone could see, but his libido decided that this wasn't important and what _was_ important was that her hand needed to go just a little bit lower.

"Ron?"

"Hmmm?" he licked his lips.

"Ron you need to wake up."

"What?" The words didn't quite make sense to him. Wake up? Why wake up?

"Ron Weasley!"

Ron's eyes snapped open and he fell off his seat in surprise, hitting the tiled floor with a yelp. His pulse was racing and his breath coming in short gasps. Being frightened awake was always rather traumatizing. Susan stood above him, looking slightly concerned and just a little bit amused. Her hands were not anywhere close to him and Ron couldn't explain why that was just a little bit disappointing. _Jesus fuck_ , he thought and wiped a shaking hand over his face. First off, the fright had done him absolutely no good. Second, his mind was still reeling from the very vivid image of Susan's hand sliding into his unzipped trousers and he was a little disoriented. Third, he was now going to have to spend the next little bit trying to will away the now agonizing pressure that had mounted below his belt. Damn it.

"Come on." Susan grabbed his arm and pulled. "They've called us all back. I think they're talking deal, which, as you know, means lots of paperwork and we might actually get out of here on time instead of past supper like we normally... why are you staring at me like that?"

Ron hadn't realized he was staring. He flicked his eyes away from her face and tried to find something else to look at. _No, not her legs, you daft idiot_ , he scolded himself and focused on the wall as he got to his feet and pulled his robe a little tighter around himself. At least they were billowy enough to cover that which he didn't want the entire courtroom to see. He was rather horrified over the whole thing. The last sexual dream he'd had was months ago when he was still dating Lisa Turpin (someone entirely too smart for him) and it involved the entire Holyhead Harpies team and a very large swimming pool full of chocolate pudding.

But they were always unrealistic dreams. Something that would never happen in a million years. Not that anything with Susan would happen, but it was more likely than being accosted by pudding covered Quidditch players. The whole realistic thing was unsettling.

Back in his chair, Ron sat with his back stiff. He threw himself into his notes and set the quill to record at a certain volume. She'd been right about the deal. Case was over and there would be nothing else until after the holidays. Testimony was being exchanged for a commuted sentence. There was scads of paperwork that had to be completed for this to come to pass. The Wizengamot was rather particular about their business and from what Ron had gleaned from Hermione, did things in such an odd way compared to general legal systems of the country.

This meant that Ron and Susan were both at work for a good number of hours after court was let out.

*~*~*

"Drink?" Susan asked, reaching over to help sort out the parchments into their corresponding files before sending them off to the cabinet in their office.

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably and kept his eyes on the shuffling papers beneath his hands. "I was thinking of getting an early start on my Christmas shopping actually." Really he was just hoping to go home and bang his head against the wall for a good hour to knock some sense back into it. But shopping sounded more plausible and it really was something he'd have to get busy with soon.

Susan laughed and took the last parchments away from him as well as his quill so that he could stop fidgeting. "Early start? On the twenty-second of December? Weasley, you're such a _guy_."

"Oh and I suppose you're all finished?" Ron wrinkled his nose. "Let me remind you that I have a big family to shop for and it's not easy when they make fun of you for getting gift cards. I have to actually go out and _find_ stuff this year and there's just so fucking _many_ \--" He cut himself off when he saw the look on her face and muttered a curse under his breath. "Susan, I'm a great git. I didn't mean that."

Susan's expression had turned cold and her lips pressed tightly together in a very thin line that it almost looked like she didn't have lips. "No it's fine. You have a lot to do. We can have a drink another time."

Turning on her heel she marched out of the room. Ron stood there for a long moment debating the pros and cons of going after her. It was either going to end in one of two ways. One, she would smack him or, two, she would smack him _and_ yell at him for being insensitive. There actually was the less possible three which involved less smacking and more yelling, but Ron had his money on the first two. Only because it seemed like the more likely course of action. With a reserved sigh, Ron dashed after Susan, managing to catch her just as the doors to the lift opened.

It wasn't until after he had followed her into the lift did Ron realize that he'd made a bad decision. The lift was packed with people and somehow (though he didn't know how, good god don't these people wear deodorant?) he managed to wedge himself into the very small space between Susan and a large mustached fellow that Ron remembered was a junior Minister from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Then, of course, someone had to get on after him which caused Susan to be so far into his personal space that she could be standing on the same spot. Ron shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up at where the wall met the ceiling because if he looked down, which he did (accidentally, mind you) at one point, he was able to see right down the front of her blouse.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Weasley?" Susan looked up at him.

"What, me? There's nothing wrong. I just wanted to make sure... You know, that things were alright between us. I really didn't mean what I said."

Susan frowned and folded her arms. The movement caused her elbows to graze his midsection. "That's not what I mean. You've been acting _weird_ ever since the recess. You nearly dumped your bottle of ink onto the defense lawyer when I reached for a new scroll. You haven't looked me in the eye all afternoon and you actually put a _buffer_ seat in between us when we got back into the courtroom."

Ron looked down at her, surprised. "A what?"

"A buffer seat. An empty seat between two seats so that the people on either side aren't touching. You've never put up a buffer seat. Ever. Even on the first day when I asked you if you needed extra room for your legs, you told me that no it was easier to see what I was writing if there wasn't a space in the way." Susan prodded him none too gently in the chest. "So out with it. What's wrong with you? What did I do?"

"You didn't... " Ron looked around the lift and then cast a glance to the ceiling hoping that perhaps it would open up and suck him out. Alas. It did not. "Can we not talk about this in the lift with a bunch of people we don't really know that well?"

"You're absolutely right," Susan said with a kind of determination that made Ron a little nervous. 

The doors to the lift opened and she seized his hand, pulling him along with her. Now the thought occurred to Ron that he could simply dig his heels in and refuse to go with her. After all, Susan was on the petite side and didn't have the strength to physically overpower him. However, he'd learned at a young age that small girls are generally the most resourceful. Hermione had her petrifying spell. Ginny had the bat-bogey hex. Now of course they didn't necessarily use them. But he'd seen them in action. And learned to be wary of it all.

"Alright. Spill." Susan latched the door to the empty office she'd steered him into and then placed a locking charm on it. She wheeled about and faced him, hands on her hips and looking far from pleased.

"It's... ah... It's really nothing, Suze," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and tried to give her a smile as if to nudge away her questions, but she wasn't letting up. Hufflepuff determination at its best. "I had a weird dream before you woke me up. I've just been flustered by it."

"Well you could have told me about it."

A incredulous laugh escaped from Ron's throat and he loosened his necktie. "Yeah... no I _really_ couldn't have."

"And why not?" Susan folded her arms about herself and outside of the crowd of the lift, Ron actually noticed how it pushed her breasts up just a little bit more, which was quite attractive when he thought about it. Which he instantly reminded himself he _shouldn't_ be thinking about it. Susan raised her eyebrows at him. "You told me about the one with you and the three ducks and the silk tapestry... _and_ the one with the thirteen pizzas and Mad Eye Moody."

Ron was aghast, momentarily forgetting that he was trying to avoid the conversation. That was just a bit of a low blow on her part. "Both of which you swore you'd _never_ repeat. Even to me!"

"It can't be any worse than those, unless it was a sex dream with... " Realization practically exploded across her face when her eyes met his. Like she was reading exactly what he was trying _not_ to think about. "Oh."

Ron thought to himself that it would be perfectly lovely if he could spontaneously combust or perhaps just sink into the floor. Hey, he'd even take on a couple of mountain trolls armed with only a toilet plunger in his hand and a colander on his head if it meant that he wasn't having this conversation. Sex dreams were all well and fine. Everyone had them. Or at least he figured everyone had them. It seemed unlikely that he'd be the only person in the entire world who did. But having them about your co-workers and then having them _know_ about it was not something that anyone should go through. And he really just wanted to die.

"Look, Susan, it wasn't really anything. Just a dream and it was a little unsettling because you were right there when I woke up and I was kind of embarrassed and out of --"

"Was I any good?"

Ron actually did a double take. Right as though he was in a film. With his mouth agog and everything. He sat down heavily on the edge of the desk only to jump back up again because he'd sat down on one of those triangle desk nameplates. Pushing it to the side, he lowered himself back down again. "Well I really don't think we should be analyzing this. It didn't get that far anyhow... I mean... you can't just expect me to have an opinion about the talents of some dream version of you that isn't really you."

"You're absolutely right," said Susan.

Ron watched her with a wary expression. Usually when girls told him he was right, it was in the middle of an argument and right before they dropped some sort of psychological bomb on him. This wasn't exactly an argument he was having with Susan, but it wasn't exactly a friendly conversation either. It didn't help that she had somehow managed to cross the floor and stand in front of him without him even noticing her movement. She stood there for an agonisingly long moment. Because he was sitting down, she was at eye level with him and her eyes searched his and Ron could almost _see_ the wheels turning inside her head.

It was a little scary.

Susan took a breath. "I really can't think of any other alternative," she said and placed her hands against his chest. Her fingers curled in the front of his robe and before he could respond to what she'd said, her lips pressed softly against his.

This wasn't the first time he'd kissed Susan Bones. The previous New Years had been rung in with a kiss. But Ron had drunk a lot of wine and kissed nearly every girl in the room, including ninety-seven-year-old Ethel Yeoman, who had spent the rest of the night pinching his cheeks when she could and calling him "dear boy." This was entirely different than the last kiss he'd shared with Susan, which had included a weird sort of mashing of noses that they both still laughed about. This. This how ever was not weird. It was not uncomfortable. It was just her mouth moving across his and somewhere along the line his hands had come off the desk and settled on the gentle flare of her hips only to pull her closer. 

It was when her hands moved up to his neck that Ron turned his face to break the kiss. He sucked in a ragged breath. "Am I dreaming again?" he asked skeptically.

"It's possible," said Susan, peering up at him through a dark fringe of lashes. "Or it could be that I've been trying to get your attention for weeks now and it's only just now succeeded." She smiled. "Your brothers told me you were a bit thick when it came to girls." She hooked her finger under his chin and pressed up, effectively closing his gaped mouth. 

"I didn't..."

"No, you really didn't." Susan pressed a kiss to his jaw and then one to his neck. "I'm a girl. You thought I wouldn't notice the way you look at my legs? Or my bum?"

Ron tried to think back and realized that shortly after his last break-up was when Susan started wearing skirts that got gradually shorter and shorter and the cut of her neckline gradually showed more and more. He didn't, of course, complain about this, but he also never asked either. Just enjoyed the view where he could get it. The fact that she'd been doing this on purpose just for him struck him like a sledgehammer. Just for him. Usually the girls were fawning over Harry in the end and never really wanted anything to do with him other than use him as a stepping stone to the main picture. But here Susan was. And her teeth were grazing his ear and it was too much and something broke inside him. Getting involved with a co-worker? Oh you'd better be damned he was going to do that. Sliding his arm tightly around her back, Ron pulled Susan close and covered her mouth, kissing her like she was his last breath of air. She wanted his attention? Oh she got it. 

There was a furiousness in their kissing, a clashing of lips, teeth, tongues. Ron's hand slid down immediately to cup the round curve of her bum. Susan's arms draped over his shoulders and one hand tangled in his hair while the other fisted the back of his robe and pulled. Somehow she managed, through all their flurry of movements to straddle one of his legs and he could feel the warmth of her body through his clothes. And good god he wanted those clothes gone.

This time Susan pulled away first. "Come back to my flat," she panted.

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "Now?"

"You want to wait until we go out on a few dates and try to learn something that we don't already know about each other?" Her hand closed over the buckle of his belt and she tugged him forward by his trousers.

"Fair point," Ron answered with a lopsided grin. He grabbed her hand and flicked his wand at the door to undo her spells.

*~*~*

Getting through the Ministry took a lot longer than Ron thought. Now this was all in part due to the fact that they were acting quite inappropriately and stopping to snog and paw at each other in various alcoves along the way down to the Apparition point. Had there not been new rules about where one could and could not Apparate within the Ministry, Ron would have suggested they go right from the office. As it was, he was really enjoying the trip downstairs and almost didn't want those lift doors to open. He liked this. He liked it a lot. His other girlfriends had always been so shy and always wanted him to make the first move because he was the Gryffindor and in theory he was supposed to be the initiator and then here was Susan, who had taken the first step and he rather enjoyed it.

Forceful women. Who knew?

They barely made it two feet into the flat before his arms were around her again. Susan jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist and Ron had to think fast to cradle her arse with his hands to keep from falling over. That said, he nearly toppled because he'd not been prepared for the sudden movement. Stumbling backward and nearly knocking over her Christmas tree as well as scaring the cat, Ron somehow managed to make it to the sofa without coming up for air. The two of them fell onto the cushions, Susan beneath Ron looking up at him. He slid his fingers through her hair.

"Can I ask--"

"Can't you ask your questions after?" Susan interrupted him with a grin.

"I just want to know how long have you wanted this to happen." He tried to wave his hand nonchalantly but one was pinned beneath her and the other was still in her hair.

Susan chuckled. It was throaty and delicious, her laugh. "Ages now. But you've only been available for the last couple of months."

"Ah. But why didn't you say anyth--" He was silenced by the tips of her fingers, which were soft and cool to the touch.

"Ron." Susan rolled her hips against him, causing a groan to catch in the back of his throat. He'd almost forgotten how fitted together they were. "Stop talking."

Getting clothes off went a little comical; Susan trying to wiggle out of her skirt with her legs still sort of pinned on either side of his hips and Ron trying to undo his shirt with one hand, while the other tried for his belt. They managed to elbow each other several times, each time bursting into laughter, before scrambling off the sofa and standing up. Ron abandoned his own shirt in favour of tugging at her blouse, his lips travelling down the slope of her shoulder. Susan quickly undid his belt and threw it somewhere beyond the coffee table.

"I dreamt they were pink, you know," he mumbled against the cup of her bra when he felt his trousers pool around his ankles. He stumbled a bit and kicked them aside.

She didn't answer him and he was unable to form another word. Her hand dove beneath the elastic band of his boxers and found his erection giving it a cheeky squeeze and Ron thought his heart would stop beating right then and there. Spurred into even more action, he fumbled with the clasp of her bra for but a moment before managing to undo the wretched thing and toss it aside. 

His hands came up and splayed across her breasts, cupping them slowly. It shocked him to no end that just that morning he'd not even considered that he'd be in this situation. Not in a million years. Now, Ron liked to think that he'd seen some pretty nice breasts in his limited sexual experience and maybe it was just the fact that she'd started to stroke her hand up and down, driving his brain even further out of the room, but Ron decided right then and there that Susan's were the most perfect he had ever seen. And there was this momentary notion that he didn't want to see another pair. That this was it. Oh my.

Collapsing back onto the sofa, Ron pulled Susan onto his lap. Things were so much more at all the right levels of accessibility now. Bending his head, he clamped his lips around a nipple worrying one then the other, which elicited almost a purr of satisfaction from somewhere in her throat. Susan's fingers pressed sharply into his shoulder and Ron could feel the slight pinch of her fingernails. He then kissed his way up her chest, neck and stopping at her lips. He caught the top one between his teeth, nipping with enough pressure to make her squeak before letting go and giving her bottom lip the same treatment.

Susan groaned and pressed herself against him, rocking herself back and forth on his lap.

No questions passed between them after that. Foreplay and gentle caresses were forgotten because the two of them were shivering with desire. Ron would have liked to have shown her he could be gentle and somewhat talented, but her teeth against his shoulder and constant undulation of her hips told him more of what she wanted than words ever could. Pushing her back onto the sofa, Ron wiggled out of his boxers and tugged at her knickers in vain before realising that she'd have to take her stockings off first. The stockings he liked and wanted her to keep on, so at the last moment and with a whispered apology, he tore the sides and flung them aside. Best thing about magic? Being able to repair such damage in the morning. Her body shook with muffled giggles.

They stopped when he touched her.

Ron was generally a clumsy sort of bloke. Knocked things off his desk. Had broken a mug or two. Sometimes people called him a bull in a china shop. But there was a delicateness to his touch. The simple slide of a single finger along her damp body, pushing and nudging. Surprisingly enough, his favourite part about sex, a shock when one thought about his age, was finding that bundle of nerves between a woman's legs and making her squirm and sob until they were about ready to beg for it to finish.

He touched Susan like that, his fingers moving deftly and gently. Butterfly touches that had her whispering for him to press harder.

Oh how the air crackled between them.

Settling between her legs, Ron hooked his hand under one of her thighs and pulled it higher on his hip. Susan arched her back with a sweet peal of sound when he thrust into her. For ages, or perhaps just a moment as time seemed irrelevant, Ron lay there without moving, sharing her breath and pressing kisses to her face. Her eyelashes fluttered against his lips and in the midst of this whole thing, while buried deep inside of her, Ron tried to make sense of a few things. Subtlety had never been something he was good at and it was usually after the fact that he realized what everything was about. There had been so many signs and he'd missed them all.

In the midst of all of this, Ron caught Susan's gaze and held it. Images of the two of them flashed along his periphery. A cup of tea brought late at night. Her bonking his knee playfully during a desperately long deposition. Jokes. Laughter. And those soft brown eyes with golden flecks. Those same eyes that were now looking back at him. Clouded with desire.

Ron sucked in his breath because there was an epic sort of realization that was coming over him. He couldn't focus on it, much as a small part of him thought he should, because she was kissing him as much as he was kissing her and to let that epic thought sink in would cause it all to come to a screeching and terrifying halt.

Neither one of them wanted that.

With a lazy smile, Ron propped himself up, hooking an arm over the back of her sofa and started to move his hips. It was agonizingly slow and she had her hands around his waist, softly pleading. Please. Oh please. In one quick movement, he scooped his arm beneath her shoulders and pulled her close, crushing her mouth beneath his. Like coasting down the tallest hill on a bicycle, everything sped up. He moved, she moved and the friction, the heat, it was on such a grand scale that, even though he wanted to be different with her, his libido got away from him.

He found her arm and hooked it around his neck so he could let go and slid his hand between their bodies. Pressing his thumb against her, Ron began to rub the hard little nub of flesh. Her movements grew less controlled, more jerky and her sounds were just a little more frantic. He pressed harder. They were both so very close to the edge, but he was determined that she'd be first and when it did happen, when she began to wildly spasm around him, it was more brilliant than he could have thought possible. Her entire body shook against him, legs, arms, lips... even her breath and the pulse he could feel beneath his lips. It all culminated in one last thrust and a pinched cry from somewhere deep inside him as waves hit him from all sides. They pulsed together the two of them and he could actually see her eyes trying to refocus on a world that was trembling along with them.

"Wow," he whispered, dropping his head against her neck, his mouth passing over a salty trail of perspiration.

"Wow is right," she returned, fingertips brushing the damp fringe off his forehead.

"I'm going to have to transfer to another department," he said with an uncharacteristically thoughtful look on his face.

Susan stretched her arms languidly and rubbed the heel of her foot against the back of his knee. "Why's that?"

Ron grinned. "Because I'd really like to date you properly. And if we're shut together in an office all day, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to resist throwing you across the desk and having my way with you after this." He cupped a hand along her jawline and kissed her.

An impish look crossed Susan's face. "Well then you'd better give them at least two weeks... So I can try testing that theory."

Ron laughed and slid his hand under her, to squeeze the fleshy cheek of her backside. "You, Ms Bones, have a deal."

*~*~*


End file.
